Collaboration

It is doubtful if Massinger ever collaborated with any author whose manner harmonized as well with his own as did Field’s. In his partnership with Decker in The Virgin Martyr, the alternate hands of the two dramatists afford a weird contrast.[5] His union with Fletcher was less incongruous, but Fletcher was too much inclined to take the bit between his teeth to be a comfortable companion in double harness,[6] and at all times his volatile, prodigal genius paired ill with the earnest, painstaking, not over-poetic moralist. But in Field Massinger found an associate whose connection with himself was not only congenial, but even beneficial, to the end that together they could achieve certain results of which either was individually incapable; just as it has been established was the case in the Middleton-Rowley collaboration. To a formal element of verse different, indeed, from Massinger’s, but not obtrusively so, a certain moral fibre of his own (perhaps derived from his clerical antecedents), and a like familiarity with stage technique, Field added qualities which Massinger notably lacked, and thereby complemented him: a light and vigorous (if sometimes coarse) comic touch as opposed to Massinger’s cumbrous humor; a freshness and first-hand acquaintance with life as opposed to Massinger’s bookishness; a capacity to visualize and individualize character as opposed to Massinger’s weakness for drawing types rather than people. The fruit of their joint endeavors testifies to a harmonious, conscientious, and mutually respecting partnership.

In consideration of the above, it is surprising how substantially in accord are most of the opinions that have been expressed concerning the share of the play written by each author.

“A critical reader,” says Monck Mason, “will perceive that Rochfort and Charalois speak a different language in the Second and Third Acts, from that which they speak in the first and last, which are undoubtedly Massinger’s; as is also Part of the Fourth Act, but not the whole of it.”

Dr. Ireland, in a postscript to the text of The Fatal Dowry in Gifford’s edition, agrees with Mason in assigning the Second Act to Field and also the First Scene of the Fourth Act; the Third Act, however, he claims for Massinger, as well as that share of the play with which Mason credits him. Fleay and Boyle, the chief modern commentators who have taken up the question of the division of authorship with the aid of metrical tests and other criteria, agree fairly well with the speculations of their less scientific predecessors, and adopt an intermediate, reconciling position on the disputed Third Act, dividing it between the two dramatists.[7]

Boyle (Englische Studien, V, 94) assigns to Massinger [Act I]; [Act III] as far as line 316; [Act IV, Scenes ii], [iii], and [iv]; and the whole of [Act V], with the exception of [Scene ii, lines 80–120], which he considers an interpolation of Field, whom he also believes to have revised the latter part of [I, ii] (from Exeunt Officers with Romont to end).

Fleay (Chron. Eng. Dra., I

, 208) exactly agrees with this division save that the latter part of [I, ii], which Boyle believes emended by Field, he assigns to that author outright; and that he places the division in Act III twenty-seven lines later (Field after Manent Char. Rom.).

In my own investigation I have used for each Scene the following tests to distinguish the hands of the two authors:

(a) Broad aesthetic considerations: the comparison of style and method of treatment with the known work of either dramatist.

(b) The test of parallel phrases. Massinger’s habit of repeating himself is notorious. I have gone through the entire body of his work, both that which appears under his name, and that which has been assigned to him by modern research in the Beaumont & Fletcher plays, and noted all expressions I found analogous to any which occur in The Fatal Dowry. I have done the same for Field’s work, examining his two comedies, Woman is a Weathercock and Amends for Ladies, and Acts I and V of The Knight of Malta and III and IV of The Queen of Corinth, which the consensus of critical opinion recognizes (in my judgment, correctly) as his. He is generally believed to have collaborated also in The Honest Man’s Fortune, but the exact extent of his work therein is so uncertain that I have not deemed it a proper field from which to adduce evidence. His hand has been asserted by one authority or another to appear in various other plays of the period, he having served, as it were, the role of a literary scapegoat on whom it was convenient to father any Scene not identified as belonging to Beaumont, Fletcher, or Massinger; but there is no convincing evidence for his participation in the composition of any extant dramas save the above named.

(c) Metrical tests. I have computed the figures for The Fatal Dowry in regard to double or feminine endings and run-on lines. Massinger’s verse displays high percentages (normally 30 per cent, to 45 per cent.) in the case of either. Field’s verse varies considerably in the matter of run-on lines at various periods of his life, but the proportion of them is always smaller than Massinger’s. His double endings average about 18 per cent. I have also counted in each Scene the number of speeches that end within the line, and that end with the line, respectively. (Speeches ending with fragmentary lines are considered to have mid-line endings.) This is declared by Oliphant (Eng. Studien, XIV, 72) the surest test for the work of Massinger. “His percentage of speeches,” he says, “that end where the verses end is ordinarily as low as 15.” This is a tremendous exaggeration, but it is true that the ratio of mid-line endings is much higher in Massinger than in any of his contemporaries—commonly 2:1, or higher.

We find the [First Scene of Act I] one of those skillful introductions to the action which the “stage-poet” knew so well how to handle, for which reason, probably, he was generally intrusted with the initial Scene of the plays in which he collaborated. Thoroughly Massingerian are its satire upon the degenerate age and its grave, measured style, rhetorical where it strives to be passionate, and replete with characteristic expressions. Especially striking examples of the dramatist’s well-known and never-failing penchant for the recurrent use of certain ideas and phrases are: As I could run the hazard of a check for’t. ([l. 10])—cf. [8]C-G. 87 b, 156 b, 327 b; D. V, 328; XI, 28;—You shall o’ercome. ([l. 101])—cf. C-G. 230 b, 248 b, 392 a;—and [ll. 183–7]—cf. C-G. 206 a, 63 a, 91 a, 134 b. The correspondence between [ll. 81–99] and the opening of The Unnatural Combat has already been remarked on, while further reminiscences of the same passage are to be found elsewhere in Massinger (C-G. 104 a, 195 b). Metrical tests show for the Scene 33 per cent. double endings and 29 per cent. run-on lines, figures which substantiate the conclusions derivable from a scrutiny of its style and content.[9]

In [I, ii] Massinger appears in his element, an episode permitting opportunities for the forensic fervor which was his especial forte. Such Scenes occur again and again in his plays: the conversion of the daughters of Theophilus by the Virgin Martyr, the plea of the Duke of Milan to the Emperor, of old Malefort to his judges in The Unnatural Combat, of Antiochus to the Carthagenian senate in Believe as You List. From the speech with which Du Croy opens court ([I, ii, 1–3])—cf. the inauguration of the senate-house scene in The Roman Actor, C-G. 197 b,

Fathers conscript, may this our meeting be

Happy to Caesar and the commonwealth!

—to the very end, it abounds with Massingerisms: Knowing judgment; Speak to the cause; I foresaw this (an especial favorite of the poet’s); Strange boldness!; the construction, If that curses, etc;—also cf. [l. 117] ff. with

To undervalue him whose least fam’d service

Scornes to be put in ballance with the best

Of all your Counsailes.

(Sir John van Olden B., Bullen’s Old Plays, II, 232.)

We have seen that the hand of Field has been asserted to appear in the last half of this Scene. This is probably due to the presence here of several rhymed couplets, which are uncommon in Massinger save as tags at the end of Scenes or of impressive speeches, but not absolutely unknown in his work; whereas Field employs them frequently—in particular to set off a gnomic utterance. If Field’s indeed, they can scarcely represent more than his revising touch here and there; everything else in this part of the Scene bespeaks Massinger no less clearly than does the portion which preceeds it. There continues the same stately declamation, punctuated at intervals by brief comments or replies, the same periodic sentence-structure, the same or even greater frequency of characteristic diction. Massinger again and again refers in his plays to the successive hardships of the summer’s heat and winter’s frost ([l. 184]—cf. C-G. 168 b, 205 a, 392 b, 488 b); stand bound occurs literally scores of times upon his pages (three times on C-G. 77 a alone);—typical also are in their dreadful ruins buried quick ([l. 178]—cf. C-G. 603 a, 625 a, Sir John van Olden B., Bullin’s Old Plays, II, 209), Be constant in it ([l. 196]—cf. C-G. 2 a, 137 a, 237 a, 329 a), Strange rashness!, It is my wonder ([l. 293]—cf. C-G. 26 b, 195 b; D. VIII, 438; XI, 34). Cf. also [l. 156],

To quit the burthen of a hopeless life,

with C-G. 615 b,

To ease the burthen of a wretched life.

And [ll. 284–6],

But would you had

Made trial of my love in anything

But this,

with C-G. 286 a,

I could wish you had

Made trial of my love some other way.

And again, [ll. 301–3],

and his goodness

Rising above his fortune, seems to me,

Princelike, to will, not ask, a courtesy.

with D. XI. 37,

in his face appears

A kind of majesty which should command,

Not sue for favour.

and the general likeness of [l. 258] ff. with C-G. 44 b-45 a, as above noted. Nor do the verse tests reveal any break in the continuity of the Scene; the figures for the first part are: double endings, 45 per cent.; run-on lines, 33 per cent.—for the second part: double endings, 36 per cent.; run-on lines, 36 per cent.

Passing to the [Second Act], we discover at once a new manner of expression, in which the sentence has a looser structure, the verse a quicker tempo, the poetry a striving now and again for a note of lyric beauty which, although satisfactorily achieved in but few lines, is by Massinger’s verse not even attempted. A liberal sprinkling of rhymes appears. The Scene is a trifle more vividly conceived; the emotions have a somewhat more genuine ring. Simultaneously, resemblances to the phraseology of Massinger’s other plays become infrequent; and, to increase the wonder, is almost the only reminder of him in the whole of Scene i. On the other hand we must not expect to find in the work of Field the same large number of recognizable expressions as mark that of Massinger; for he was not nearly so given to repeating himself, nor are there many of his plays extant from which to garner parallels. The figure of speech with which Charalois opens his funeral address [Field shows a great predilection for “aqueous” similes and metaphors], the liberal use of oaths (’Slid, ’Slight), a reference ([l. 137]) to the Bermudas (also mentioned in Amends for Ladies: M. 427), and the comparison to the oak and pine ([ll. 119–121]—cf. a Field Scene of The Queen of Corinth: D. V, 436–7) are the only specific minutia to which a finger can be pointed. The verse analysis testifies similarly to a different author from that of Act I, double endings being 20 per cent., run-on lines 15 per cent.—figures which are quite normal to Field.

To the actor-dramatist may be set down the prose of [II, ii] without question. Massinger practically never uses prose, which is liberally employed by Field, as is the almost indistinguishable prose-or-verse by which a transition is made from one medium to the other. The dialogue between Beaumelle and her maids is strikingly like that between two “gentlewomen” in The Knight of Malta, I, ii—a Scene generally recognized as by his hand; the visit of Novall Junior which follows is like a page out of his earlier comedies. Notable resemblances are ll. 177–8, Uds-light! my lord, one of the purls of your band is, without all discipline, fallen out of his rank, with I have seen him sit discontented a whole play because one of the purls of his band was fallen out of his reach to order again. (Amends for Ladies, M. 455); and [l. 104], they skip into my lord’s cast skins some twice a year, with and then my lord (like a snake) casts a suite every quarter, which I slip into: (Woman is a Weathercock, M. 374). The song, after [l. 131], recalls that in Amends for Ladies, M. 465.

Of the verse which follows, most of the observations made in regard to the preceeding Scene are applicable. The comic touch in the midst of Romont’s tirade ([ll. 174–206]) against old Novall, when the vehemence of his indignation leads him to seek at every breath the epithet of a different beast for his foe, is surely Field’s, not Massinger’s. A Field scene of The Queen of Corinth, D. V, 438, parallels with its Thou a gentleman! thou an ass, the construction of [l. 276], while there too is duplicated the true-love knots of [l. 314], though in a rather grotesque connection. The verse tests are confirmative of Field: 21 per cent. double endings; 19 per cent, run-on lines. While a few resemblances to phrases occurring somewhere in the works of Massinger can be marked here and there in the 355 lines of the Scene, they are not such as would demand consideration, nor are more numerous than sheer chance would yield in the case of a writer so prolific as the “stage-poet.” The parallel between [ll. 284–297] and a passage from The Unnatural Combat is pointed out under the head of [Date], and one of several possible explanations for this coincidence is there offered. These lines in The Fatal Dowry are as unmistakably Field’s as any verse in the entire play; their short, abruptly broken periods and their rapid flow are as characteristic of him as the style of their analogue in The Unnatural Combat is patently Massingerian.

[Act III] presents a more difficult problem. It will be noted that Fleay and Boyle alike declare that its single long Scene is divided between the two authors, but are unable to agree as to the point of division. The first 316 lines are beyond question the work of Massinger. The tilt between Romont and Beaumelle is conducted with that flood of rhetorical vituperation by which he customarily attempts to delineate passion; in no portion of the play is his diction and sentence-structure more marked; and the parallels to passages elsewhere in his works reappear with redoubled profusion. Indeed, they become too numerous for complete citation; let it suffice to refer [ll. 43–4] to D. III, 477; [ll. 53–4] to C-G. 173 a; [ll. 80–3] to D. III, 481; [l. 104] to C-G. 532 a; [l. 116] to C-G. 146 b; [ll. 117–8] to D. VI, 294 and D. VI, 410; [ll. 232–5] to C-G. 307 a, also to 475 b, and to D. VIII, 406; while the phrase, Meet with an ill construction ([l. 238]) is a common one with Massinger (cf. C-G. 76 a, 141 b, 193 b, 225 b, 339 b), as are such ironic observations as the Why, ’tis exceeding well of [l. 293] (cf., e. g., 175 b). This part of the Scene contains 45 per cent. double endings and 36 per cent. run-on lines.

The last 161 lines of the Act with scarcely less certainty can be established as Field’s, though on a first reading one might imagine, from the wordiness of the vehement dialogue and the rather high ratio (19:11) of speeches ending in mid-line, that the hand of Massinger continues throughout. But the closest examination no longer will reveal traces of that playwright’s distinctive handiwork, while a ratio of 17 per cent. for double endings and 28 per cent. for run-on lines, the introduction of rhyme, the oaths, and the change from the previous full-flowing declamation to shorter, more abrupt periods are vouchers that this part of the Scene is from the pen of the actor-dramatist. We can scarcely imagine the ponderous-styled Massinger writing anything so easy and rapid as

I’ll die first.

Farewell; continue merry, and high heaven

Keep your wife chaste.

Such phrases as So I not heard them ([l. 352]) and Like George a-horseback ([l. 433]) in the loose structure of the one and the slangy scurrility of the other, exhibit no kinship to his manner; [l. 373], They are fools that judge me by my outward seeming recalls a Field passage in The Queen of Corinth (D. V, 444) They are fools that hold them dignified by blood. There is here and there, moreover, a certain violence of expression, a compressed over-trenchancy of phrase, that brings to mind the rant of the early Elizabethans, and is found among the Jacobeans only in the work of Rowley, Beaumont, and Field. For the last named, this is notably exemplified in the opening soliloquy of The Knight of Malta; we cannot but recognize the same touch here in [ll. 386–8]:

Thou dost strike

A deathful coldness to my heart’s high heat,

And shrink’st my liver like the calenture.

The Something I must do, which concludes the Act, is repeatedly paralleled in Massinger’s plays, but a similar indefinite resolve is expressed in Woman is a Weathercock (M. 363), and it consequently cannot be adduced as evidence of his hand. Immediately above, however ([ll. 494–6]), we encounter, in the allusion to the Italian and Dutch temperaments, a thought twice echoed by the “stage-poet” in plays of not greatly later date, The Duke of Milan and The Little French Lawyer (C-G. 90 a; D. III, 505). It may represent an interpolation by Massinger; it may be merely that this rather striking conclusion to the climatic speech of his collaborator’s scene so fixed itself on his mind as to crop out afterwards in his own productions.

In the short disputed passage ([ll. 317–343]) which separates what is undoubtedly Massinger’s from what is undoubtedly Field’s, it would appear that both playwrights had a hand. The ’Sdeath and Gads me!, the play upon the word currier, and the phrase, I shall be with you suddenly (cf. Q. of Cor. D. V, 467) speak for Field; while Massinger, on the other hand, parallels

His back

Appears to me as it would tire a beadle;

with

A man of resolution, whose shoulders

Are of themselves armour of proof, against

A bastinado, and will tire ten beadles.—C-G. 186 b;

and the phrase “to sit down with a disgrace” occurs something like a dozen times on his pages, especially frequently in the collaborated plays—that is to say, in the earlier period of his work, to which The Fatal Dowry belongs. It is probable, and not unnatural, that the labors of the partners in composition overlapped on this bit of the Scene, but metrical analysis claims with as much certainty as can attach to this test in the case of so short a passage that it is substantially Massinger’s, and should go rather with what preceeds than with what comes after it, the verse being all one piece with that of the former section. It has 37 per cent. double endings and 41 per cent. run-on lines.

[IV, i,] opens with a prose passage for all the world like that of Woman is a Weathercock, I, ii, with its picture of the dandy, his parasites, and the pert page who forms a sort of chorus with his caustic asides; and writes itself down indisputably as by the same author. Novall Junior and his coterie appear here as in their former presentation in [II, ii]. We have again the same racy comedy, the same faltering of the vehicle between verse and prose (see [ll. 61–8]; [137–153]). After the clearing of the stage of all save Romont and young Novall, uninterrupted verse ensues, which, despite a rather notable parallel in The Beggars’ Bush, D. IX, 9 to [l. 174], is evidently Field’s also. An analogue of [ll. 180–1] is discoverable in Amends for Ladies (M. 421), as is of the reference ( [l. 197]) to “fairies’ treasure” in Woman is a Weathercock (M. 344). Novall’s exclamation ( [l. 182]), Pox of this gun! and his retort ( [l. 201]), Good devil to your rogueship! are Fieldian, and the entire passage possesses a vigor and an easy naturalness which declare his authorship. It is not improbable, however, that his contribution ends with the fragmentary [l. 207], and that the remaining four lines of the Scene are a Massinger tag. The Maid of Honour (C-G. 28 a) furnishes a striking parallel for [ll. 208–9], while for [210–1] cf. C-G. 192 a. The metrical tests for [IV, i], confirm Field: 22 per cent. double endings; 22 per cent. run-on lines.

With the next Scene the hand of Massinger is once more in evidence with all its accustomed manifestations. One interested in his duplication of characteristic phrasing may refer for comparison [ll. 13–4] to C-G. 299 b; [l. 17] to C-G. 241 a; [ll. 24–6] to C-G. 547 b; [ll. 29–30] to C-G. 425 b; [l. 57] to C-G. 41 b, 70 b; [l. 94] to C-G. 182 b. The Scene contains 32 per cent. double endings and 37 per cent. run-on lines. The authorship of its two songs is less certain. Field was more given to song-writing than was Massinger, and the second of this pair is reminiscent in its conception of the Grace Seldom episode in Amends for Ladies (II, i).

The short [IV, iii] is by Massinger. In evidence of him are its 36 per cent. of double endings and 55 per cent. of run-on lines, its involved sentence structure, and the familiar phrasing which makes itself manifest even in so brief a passage (e. g.: To play the parasite, [l. 7]—cf. [V, iii, 78] and C-G. 334 b. Cf. also [ll. 9–10] with D. III, 476; and [l. 22] with C-G. 40 b, 153 a, 262 b.).

The same dramatist’s work continues through the last Scene of the Act. This, the emotional climax of the play, representing a quasi-judicial procedure, affords him abundant opportunity for fervid moralizing and speech-making, of which he takes advantage most typically. Massinger commonplaces are [l. 29], Made shipwreck of your faith (cf. C-G. 55 b, 235 a, 414 b); [l. 56], In the forbidden labyrinth of lust (cf. C-G. 298 b); [l. 89], Angels guard me! (cf. C-G. 59 b, 475 b); [l. 118–9], and yield myself Most miserably guilty (cf. C-G. 61 b, 66 b, 130 a; D. VI, 354); etc.; while within a year or so of the time when he wrote referring to “those famed matrons” ([l. 70]), he expatiated upon them in detail (see The Virgin Martyr, C-G. 33 a). Yet more specific parallels may be found: for [l. 63] cf. C-G. 179 a; [ll. 76–7], cf. C-G. 28 a; [l. 78], cf. C-G. 32 b; [ll. 162–3], cf. C-G. 3 b, in a passage wherein there is a certain similarity of situation; [l. 177], cf. D. IX, 7. Were any further confirmation needed for Massinger’s authorship, the metrical tests would supply it, with their 36 per cent. double endings and 34 per cent. run-on lines.

The most cursory reading of [V, i] is sufficient to establish the conviction that its author is not identical with that of the earlier comic passages—is not Field, but Massinger. The humor, such as it is, is of a graver, more restrained sort—satiric rather than burlesque; it has lost lightness and verve, and approaches to high-comedy and even to moralizing. One feels that the confession of the tailor-gallant is no mere fun-making devise, but a caustic attack upon social conditions against which the writer nurtured a grudge. Massingerian are such expressions as And now I think on’t better ([l. 77]—cf. C-G. 57 b, 468 a, 615 a; D. XI, 28), and use a conscience ([l. 90]—cf. C-G. 444 a, 453 a), while the metrical evidence of 36 per cent. double endings and 29 per cent. run-on lines fortifies a case concerning which all commentators are in agreement. But despite the unanimity of critical opinion hitherto, I am not sure that Field did not contribute a minor touch here and there to the Scene. Such contribution, if a fact, must have been small, for the Massinger flavor is unmistakable throughout; yet in the Plague on’t! and the ’Slid!, in the play upon words ([ll. 13–4], [20–1], [44]), which is rare with Massinger and common with Field, in the line, I only know [thee] now to hate thee deadly: (cf. Amends for Ladies, M. 421: I never more Will hear or see thee, but will hate thee deadly.), we may, perhaps, detect a hint of his hand.

[Scene ii] (which in the Quarto ends with the reconciliation of Charalois and Romont, the entry of Du Croy, Charmi, etc. being marked as the beginning of a third Scene, though the place is unchanged and the action continuous, wherefore modern editors disregard the Quarto’s division and count Scene ii as including all the remainder of the Act) presents the usual distinctive earmarks of a Massinger passage. The last third of it, however ([ll. 80–121]), has, on account of the presence of several rhymes, been commonly assigned to Field. No doubt his hand is here discernable; [l. 118], mark’d me out the way how to defend it, is scarcely a Massinger construction either; but I cannot think Field’s presence here more than that of a reviser, just as in the latter half of [I, ii]. The language remains more Massinger’s than Field’s; and while the passage is over-short for metrical tests to be decisive, the 39 per cent. of double endings and 35 per cent. of run-on lines which it yields (for the earlier part of the Scene the figures are respectively 28 per cent. and 35 per cent.) are corroborative of Massinger’s authorship. Cf. also [ll. 96–8] with this from The Renegado (C-G. 157 a):

This applause

Confirm’d in your allowance, joys me more

Than if a thousand full-cramm’d theatres

Should clap their eager hands.

Of the final Scene, [V, iii], little need be said. It brings before us again a court-room, with another trial, and continues the manner of its predecessor, [I, ii], as only Massinger can. His customary formulae, stand bound, play the parasite, etc., are here; characteristic too are his opposition of wanton heat and lawful fires ([ll. 141–2]—cf. C-G. 37 b; D. V. 476), while further material for comparison may be found in [ll. 95–6] with Respect, wealth, favour, the whole world for a dower of The Virgin Martyr (C-G. 6 b), and in [ll. 165–7]:

Char. You must find other proofs to strengthen these
But mere presumptions.
Du Croy Or we shall hardly
Allow your innocence.

with C-G. 39 a and b:

You must produce

Reasons of more validity and weight

To plead in your defence, or we shall hardly

Conclude you innocent.

The last passage cited for comparison also exhibits another feature normal to the work of this dramatist: the splitting of an observation, frequently a single sentence, between two speakers; so [ll. 38–9], and again, [l. 59]. The Scene and play are rounded off with the pointing of a moral, so indispensable to Massinger’s satisfaction.

To sum up, therefore, disregarding for practical purposes the slight touches of Field in [I, ii, ll. 146–end]; [III, i, ll. 317–343]; [V, ii, ll. 80–end]; and perhaps in [V, i];—and the apparent Massinger touches in [IV, i], and possibly at one or two other points in the Field Scenes, we may divide the play as follows:

A metrical analysis of the play is appended in tabular form, in which I have computed separately the figures for each portion of any Scene on which there has been a question. It will be noted that the single simple test of the mid-line speech-ending would, with but two exceptions—one (III, i, c) doubtful, and the other (V, ii, b) too short a passage to afford a fair test—have made a clean-cut and correct determination of authorship in every case.

SceneProse LinesVerse LinesDouble EndingsPer Cent.Run-on LinesPer Cent.Fragmentary LinesRhymed LinesSpeeches Ending in Mid-lineSpeeches Ending with LineAuthor
I, i—19664335629124222Massinger
I, ii (a)—14564454833122514Massinger
I, ii (b)—158573657360123016Massinger (Field revision)
II, i—145292022154161917Field
II, ii82273572152199124750Field
III, i (a)—3161424511436126729Massinger
III, i (b)—271037114130136Massinger (with Field?)
III, i (c)—161281745280101911Field
IV, i8812427222722462624Field
IV, ii—10433323837222410Massinger
IV, iii—2283612550031Massinger
IV, iv—1957136673406328Massinger
V, i—1073836312912165Massinger
V, ii (a)—802228273402172Massinger
V, ii (b)—41153714350833Massinger (Field revision)
V, iii—22998435022043419Massinger